


So This Is What It Feels Like

by bluemandycat



Category: Archvillain Series - Barry Lyga
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Mad Mask wins au, Mairi betrays Kyle and Mike to Lundergaard and Mad Mask au, Minor Violence, i put the non-con tag on just to be safe but it really depends on how you want to read it, i'm sorry archvillain fandom i've failed you, this is dark!! this is so dark!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 18:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5939569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemandycat/pseuds/bluemandycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Mairi teams up with the Mad Mask and Walter Lundergaard to take over the world, it's only a matter of time before the world falls. Some time afterwards, the Mad Mask visits two very special prisoners.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So This Is What It Feels Like

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry this is so dark i tried to hold myself back but here we are don't think too poorly of me for this i promise you i'm a nice person. 
> 
> that being said, enjoy the fanfic!

            The first thing that the Mad Mask always does when he wakes up is look out the window. His bedroom is at the top of his new evil lair that overlooks Bouring, and the window right next to his bed provides him the perfect view of the enslaved masses of people. Sometimes, if he squints hard enough, the Mad Mask thinks he can almost see the next town over, and it’s enslaved hordes.

 

            Today, he presses his mask close to the window and looks out over his domain. He grins evilly under his mask before he remembers that there’s nobody around to see him, and even if there were, the smile would be covered by his mask anyway. The mask never really comes off anymore, not even to sleep. He doesn’t even really remember what his face looks like.

 

            He gives a contented sigh and gets up, ready to start the day. He brushes his teeth and washes his face, while avoiding eye contact with the mirror. He puzzles over whether to put his ‘good armor’ on now, but finally he decides that he’ll wait until just before the party to put it on, so he ends up throwing on his usual green shirt, jeans and cape. Then, after ruffling his hair and pulling the hood on his cape up, he goes down to the cell, like he does every morning.

 

            The cell is located in the basement of his lair. He has other cells, for various other political prisoners, but this one is the most important to him, because this one houses his two worst enemies. He takes the stairs down, and slides down the railing for a couple flights, holding his cape up so it doesn’t get caught somewhere and make him fall. Once he reaches the bottom, he pushes open the door with great vigor.

 

            The device affixed to the wall beeps every thirty seconds, doing its job of blocking the prisoners’ powers. It blocks the Mad Mask’s powers, too, but that’s ok. He doesn’t need them. Not for what he has done, not for what he’s about to do. Two people sit behind bars at the opposite end of the room, and neither of them looks pleased to see him.

 

            Kyle Camden lies sleeping on the lone twin bed. He’s wearing his Blue Freak costume, but the mask is torn, so it’s painfully obvious who he is. He has a large bruise on his cheekbone and eye, and the Mad Mask dimly recalls doing that, right after tearing open his mask. He shivers a little bit every time he breathes out, and the Mad Mask can’t tell whether it’s because of the cold or because of nightmares.

 

            Mighty Mike sits next to him, on the floor. He has a healing split lip and a cut on his cheek, and wounds on his arms that may or may not scar. The edge of his cape is raggedy and torn, and he doesn’t look like much of a hero anymore. His eyes are staring into space, but his mouth is set in a way that lets the Mad Mask know that he knows that he’s here.

 

            “Hello, Mike,” the Mad Mask says, in a way that lets Mike know that he’s smiling evilly. Mike ignores him. The first few times he’d try to hit him through the bars or yell threats, but now he just sat there and pretended not to hear him. The Mad Mask continues. “We have a big, big day today!” he says, making his voice as cheerful as it can go.

 

            Finally, Mike turns to stare at him, eyes a little glassy. “What do you mean,” he says in a hollow voice, like he already knows it’s going to be bad, but doesn’t have the strength to care anymore.

 

            “Well, tonight, I’m going to a little party. A party celebrating the conquest of half of the United States. What a milestone, right?” He gives a long, evil laugh. “And guess who’s going to be there, celebrating right alongside me and old man Lundergaard? Mairi Mactaggert. And I just _know_ that she’s dying to see her _two best friends in the whole world_.”

 

            Mike grits his teeth, and his eyes flash with emotion. The Mad Mask can tell he’s struck a nerve. He can’t blame him, though. Finding out your longtime friend is actually evil and working with the enemy has got to strike a nerve. Even after all this time.

 

            “Buuuuuut,” drawls the Mad Mask, already pleased with the emotional response he’s gotten. “The party isn’t until 6:00. Which gives us,” he pauses and checks his watch, “About 7 hours of free time. So, I was thinking that I would take Kyle,” he shakes his head in the general direction of Kyle, “out for a bit.”

 

            Mike scrambles to his feet. “Don’t you dare touch him,” he spits, and the Mad Mask is ecstatic, because he always loves a reaction. On the bed, Kyle stirs, perhaps bothered by the yelling.

 

            “Oh, Mike, are we _really_ playing this game? The game where we pretend that I haven’t touched him before? Because if so, bravo. You’re more in denial than I thought you were, and that’s saying something.”

 

            Mike’s expression cracks, and he turns to begging. “Don’t-take-him-it’s-too-soon-he-still-needs-to-rest-and-recover-please-don’t-take-him.” His words slur together in his panic. The Mad Mask doesn’t care.

 

            “Aww, that’s cute, your concern for him. When’s the wedding? I could get someone to officiate down here. Mairi could come. It’d be a real party!” If the first mention of Mairi was a punch to the gut for Mike, this was a kick to the groin, humiliating and painful. It’s a reminder of all the ways that Mike has failed, and the Mad Mask knows this. The Mad Mask had found that he didn’t need to torture Mike like the other prisoners. No, reminding him of his flaws and screw-ups and taking it out on Kyle worked much better than any sick, twisted horror the Mad Mask could ever dream of. “But seriously,” he says, “I’m taking him,” and with that he unlocks the door to the barred-off part and slips in.

 

            Mike tries to hit him the second he walks in there, in desperation, but they’ve done this so many times and he’s weak and hungry and dejected, and the Mad Mask is ready for him. The Mad Mask punches him in the face, hard enough to re-open the cut on his lip and send him tumbling to the floor. He doesn’t get up.

 

            The Mad Mask bends over the bed with Kyle on it. Kyle’s eyes are closed, but he can’t tell whether he’s faking it or if he’s really sleeping. He runs his hands through Kyle’s hair and murmurs a ‘hello’. Kyle doesn’t respond. He picks him up, bridal style, making sure to support his head. He idly wonders if this irks Mike. Him being gentle before he takes Kyle away. Judging by the expression on Mike’s face, it does, at least a little bit.

 

            As he walks out of the cell, locks it, takes one final look at Mike’s face, and turns to leave, he can’t suppress a grin. Attending a party celebrating his conquests, and having the two people who were once his worst enemies almost broken by his hand? He couldn’t ask for life to be going better. And as he presses Kyle’s head close to his chest and starts to climb the stairs, a thought flits through his mind. _So this is what it feels like_ , he thinks.

 

            _Victory._

**Author's Note:**

> comments/kudos appreciated! or just tell me how terrible i am! whatever works!


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